


Fall For You

by Firekitten



Category: RWBY
Genre: FairGame Week 2020, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:01:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23272882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firekitten/pseuds/Firekitten
Summary: To Qrow, there was no greater feeling in the world than the sensation of flying through the air, nothing but the bar and Clover to rely on.That's why the fall was so devastating. [Circus AU]
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 16
Kudos: 78





	Fall For You

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 7 of Fair Game Week. Prompt used: AU
> 
> Forgive me for rushing the hell out of this one.

“Net check!”

Qrow rolled his eyes as Clover fell backwards off the trapeze platform, saluting as he went. He looked over the edge just to make sure his partner hadn’t died, before shouting down at him, “You know, after two years, that’s decidedly less impressive.”

“Don’t lie. You love it just as much as you love me.” He was too far to actually see if he was winking, but Qrow knew he definitely was.

Rather than respond, he just continued on with the safety check. He gripped at the bar, pulling on it. No give, no worrisome noises. Rigging seemed secure. He took another step back, before doing a running leap off, holding on tight as he traveled over the net until he came to a stop at the center of their stage.

He twisted his body upwards, landing on the top of the bar and swung back and forth lazily, listening carefully to everything above him. During a performance, over the roaring crowd and blasting music, it was impossible to hear any of the small, subtle sounds of the cabling above. So, any out of place screech or worrisome clonk that could imply something was about to give would go completely unheard. But in the near silence of the empty Big Top, he could hear even the tiniest creak of the frame as it bore his weight.

Nothing out of place.

He slipped his feet off the bar, freefalling for a fraction of a second before his arms caught it. Everything held. Just as it had the last two times they’d done the check throughout the day. He thought it was a little excessive, but James was a stickler for routine, and after taking partial ownership of the circus, had immediately enacted the three-check rule.

There were a lot of those kinds of changes the performers of the former “Marvelous Circus of Oz” had to put up with when they officially became partners with James’ “Fabled Ace Ops”. Higher demands on performance training, complete restructuring of acts and teammates, stricter guidelines on fashion. Qrow wasn’t even allowed to wear _nail polish_ anymore.

“You got to be fucking kidding me!” He remembered shouting at his new boss. “What do you think’ll happen Jimmy? Is my polish gonna eat through the bar?”

Ozpin had to pull him aside after that one, practically pleading for him to cooperate. It was hard to continue being pissed off when he had to face his old friend’s weary, desperate eyes. He knew this was a shitty situation, for all of them. But it was either this or all of them be out of a job. So, Qrow let it go and tried his best to play nice.

Though, he supposed as he turned around on the bar to face the platform Clover was once again standing on, not _everything_ that had resulted in the merger was terrible. Sure, he’d been downright hostile when James had first reassigned Raven with Summer’s act and appointed his own star trapeze artist to him – but it didn’t take long for Qrow to warm up to the other man. Clover was like a magnet of good qualities: friendly, confidant, encouraging, honest.

He was also ridiculously attractive, so that was a plus.

Qrow rocked his body, gaining momentum until he could swing himself back over to the platform, securing the bar down. “Alright, we’re good.”

“No, you missed something.” Clover spoke up.

“What?” He looked around, doing a mental catalogue of his checklist. “No, I didn’t. Wha-ah!”

Strong arms wound around his waist, pulling him in and a big, wet sloppy kiss was planted right on his cheek. “You forgot the kiss for good luck.”

Qrow snorted. He didn’t believe in superstition, especially with names like theirs. He had to of gotten every good luck-bad luck comment probably known to the universe. Didn’t mean he wasn’t above teasing about it. “You’re disgusting _and_ a heathen.”

Clover gasped loudly, before whirling them around, letting him go. “Oh Qrow, my love! How could you wound me this way?” He backed up the two steps it took to get back to the edge, hands crossing over the center of his chest. “The pain, it’s just too much to bear! Goodbye cruel world.”

And with another wink, he went back over.

Qrow tried, he really did, but even biting down on his lip didn’t stop the guffaws that escaped as he looked down again. “You’re an idiot!”

“Joke’s on you,” He hollered back triumphantly, “I’m yours!”

Even with the distance between them, he was sure Clover knew he was smiling.

* * *

The night was going spectacularly well. The audience was receptive and easily emotive. They’d gotten loud cheers for Summer and Raven’s silk dance and wows for Elm and Vine’s high-wire act. It had been a while since they’d had a crowd this good and the rest of the crew was feeling it too, all of them buzzing to get on stage and feed into the energy.

“Alright, Marrow and the kids are finishing up. Qrow and Clover you’re up. Robyn and Tai, get ready to follow.” Oz called as he snaked his way between the teams, popping his top hat back on his head as he went.

“Ah, what a shame that your act will be completely overshadowed by ours.” Robyn taunted. Though she lacked malice, her pride wasn’t unwarranted.

When people thought of circuses, they thought of all the typical acts: animal taming, clowns, trapeze work. No one really thought of _fire arrows_. It was the only act of its kind in the world, and one that had happened by complete mistake.

Robyn, from James’ crew, was an extremely precise archer – able to split her own arrows and even bounce them off other obstacles and still hit a target’s bull’s-eye. Tai, from their circus, was their fire performer, his talents ranging from being able to spin and juggle batons that were ablaze on either end to swallowing lit torches and breathing plumes of fire upwards like a dragon. Early on into the merger, the two just happened to be practicing by one another, showboating and trying to one up each other on their skills. One thing led to another, and Tai ended up challenging Robyn to shoot through his flames and still hit her target.

It was when she pulled it off, that the idea to combine their acts was born.

Qrow wouldn’t deny it made for a hell of a sight – but that didn’t mean he’d let her get away with her ribbing without giving back a bit of his own, “Please. Ours will be so good, they won’t be able to get it off their minds long enough to pay attention to yours.”

“Hah, you wish!”

Clover, smug as can be, threw an arm over his shoulders as he added, “Now Robyn, you know wishes are for stars, of which Qrow and I happen to be.”

“And they say I blow a lot of smoke.” Tai intervened with a wave of his hand, “Get on outta here you two before you end up holding up the whole show.”

Anything more that they might have said was interrupted by the sound of laughter floating in with Marrow, Ruby and Yang as they returned backstage. The three were propped up on each other’s shoulders like a human Leaning Tower of Pisa. Qrow and Clover were quick to assist the younger man bearing their combined weight, helping the younger girls down on their feet.

He didn’t have a lot of time, but Qrow still took a second to ruffle Ruby’s hair. “Good job kiddo.”

The eight-year old gave him a tooth-gaped smile, saying, “Break a leg Uncle Qrow!”

“In thirteen places.” He promised, before following his trapeze partner out into the darkness of the stage.

“And now, it’s the moment you all knew was coming. Introducing our Flying Aces, Qrow Branwen and Clover Ebi!” Ozpin’s voice boomed from where he stood in the center of the stage.

Qrow linked his arm with Clover’s just as the spotlight moved to capture them, both of them raising up their free hands up high as if catching the applause from the audience. So close, it was obvious how similar their clothing was – himself in a black leotard that blended into red and Clover in a complementary white to green one. Though turned from the crowd, on their backs was a design choice Qrow himself had insisted upon: Wings to follow the color gradient.

They were the _Flying_ Aces after all.

Oz continued with his announcement, but having heard it so many times before, he mostly tuned it out as he and Clover split from one another, each of them climbing up the ladders to the platforms opposite each other. As the final words from their ringleader faded, the lights below went out, bringing all the attention skyward.

Qrow unhooked the bar that he’d secured only hours ago. The music started to roll, but the moment he went swinging off the platform, it was as if everything else faded. There was nothing except him, the bar and the sensation of wind and weightlessness as he turned his body around, hooking his knees around the edges and hanging down free. As his movement slowed, he eased his grip, gravity bringing him down into a short drop before his ankles caught onto the edge instead. After another few moments, he unhooked his left, all of his weight now on just the right leg as he let his free limbs spread out wide like a taxidermist’s greatest prize.

Mostly he was a distraction, performing small tricks while Clover got into place, throwing himself off his own platform to gain momentum so he could prepare to catch him. He knew his partner was ready when he signaled him with a salute. Qrow pulled himself up so his legs could dangle once again, pushing himself into motion once more. At the apex of their swings, he let go, Clover gripping his wrists easily. They flew together briefly, before he returned him to the bar, Qrow doing an easy spin midair to catch it.

It was his second leap that earned them applause, this time somersaulting twice in midair before being captured. Even over all the white noise in his ears, he could make out Clover’s exhilarated chuckles and a breathless laugh left him as well. This was something they shared: The excitement of the flight, the adrenalin born from hanging freely nearly thirty feet in the air, the thrill brought on with each completed trick as their routine built together.

The joy of doing it all with someone he loved.

Without question, it was that last one that made him do what he did next.

Qrow’s hands clasped onto the bar as he was thrown back to it, swinging his legs up and fitting them between his grip so he could hang upside down again, this time prepared to grab the other man so they could move into the second part of their act. Clover took his turn to fly over, doing a flip of his own.

But Qrow didn’t move into position for the catch.

Hours later, when asked, he wouldn’t be able to tell anyone precisely what it was that warned him – maybe he heard something snap. Maybe he noticed a change in his balance. Or maybe it was just a feeling in his gut. But somehow, he **_knew_**.

So, for the first time since they’d perfected the move, Qrow missed.

Clover went flying one way.

As the rigging broke above him, Qrow went the other way, further and out of control.

The freefall sensation wasn’t unfamiliar to him – he’d dropped thousands of times before. On those rare cases it was unintentional, he was usually even talented enough to make it look like part of the act.

The white-hot agony that laced through him as something impacted his side with the force of a bullet was new though, unexpected in its ferocity.

It was all his mind could grasp at until he was bouncing off the edge of the net and the ground rushed up to meet him.

* * *

Incessant beeping roused him.

His first thought was he immediately wanted to go back to bed. Whatever the hell he had been doing must have been brutal, because his body ached all over, particularly centralized in his shoulder and hip and his stomach was especially throbbing.

Qrow made a noise in the back of his throat, trying to raise his arm to shut off the alarm, only to find it oddly weighted. His head flopped to the left and he grumbled, “C’ver, ‘larm.”

Suddenly the weight lifted, still there but entirely focused on his wrist. Oh, it was a hand.

“Qrow? Hey babe, you awake?” Clover’s voice coming from above him rather than beside him was what finally got him to open his eyes.

Immediately he realized he wasn’t home in the trailer when instead of just more bed and a window, there was a machine next to him and a wall a few feet away. The machine was the thing making the noise. His gaze rolled around, taking in the IV stand next and gathered a pretty good guess on where he was.

A shift made him look towards the figure hovering over him. His partner looked like a wreck, expression pale and drawn. Dark circles were laden under sleepless eyes.

“Hey.” Soft as his voice, Clover’s hand brushed through his hair, “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” Qrow replied, swallowing around his tongue which felt oddly swollen. “Heavy.”

“Yeah that’s probably the anesthesia wearing off.”

“Anesthesia?” That didn’t sound promising.

His partner took a moment to pull the chair behind him closer, sitting down right at his bedside. The hand still holding his squeezed lightly. “Do you remember what happened?”

Shifting through his own head, vague memories of spotlights and soaring through the air came back to him – as well as a stomach-dropping sensation that wasn’t meant to be there. “I fell.”

Clover’s voice shook a little, “Yeah, you did.”

There were a lot of questions he wanted to ask, but the most important one came out first, “How bad am I?”

“You’re gonna be okay. You, have a few fractures but, nothing major broke.” He took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Your stomach’s a mess though. When the cabling gave out, part of it snapped back and hit you. It ripped right into your intestines. You were in surgery for six hours.”

Qrow took that in sluggishly, focusing mostly on the first part. It meant he could still perform. The rest of it could wait for more thought another day.

So, he moved on. “What ‘bout you?”

“Hm?”

“Where were you when I fell?”

“I, uh,” Clover’s laughed, but it sounded a bit wrong. “Down on the net. I was uh, flying over to you and you just didn’t catch me. I think you knew something was wrong, ‘cause Summer said you never even reached for me.”

The significance of that hit him instantly. There were a few universal rules any trapeze worker knew – the topmost being just how vital it was for the flyer to swing after a catch. The human skeleton was a surprisingly delicate thing, and the arc of motion that followed alleviated all of the pressure the body underwent from the flight and drop. But, if the flow of motion was hindered or stopped all together, say by a snapping cable line, all that pressure suddenly didn’t have anywhere go and instead the force would compact onto the body.

At best, the sudden whiplash would have injured Clover’s spine, maybe bruised an organ or two.

At worst, it would have broken his neck.

His partner lifted his hand, lips pressing against the back of his skin as he whispered reverently, “You saved my life.”

Qrow let out a slow breath, mouth pulling up in a smirk. “Nah. I just took falling for you real literally.”

This time, when Clover laughed, it was much more genuine, even as tears finally flowed from his eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

His reply was a victory: “Joke’s on you. I’m yours.”

With no distance between them, neither of them could miss the other’s smile.


End file.
